"aphasia" poems
Discoboli of African poetry has now sparked above aphasia
The aphasic silence today breaks eardrums with cacophony
Of the world audience in the by standing duty of workshop tubes,
Executing poetic experiment on the origin of **** poeticus
To link the archaic baboonish proteins to the black chimpanzee
Cradling African man, the sire of all and their poetry.
That when the Chimpanzee blood we poured
Into the African veins of vena cava and aorta,
Feeding the heart with viscosity of nutrition,
And the Chimpanzee blood fell into deadly
Tomperousness like Shakespearean impetuosity
Once seen in Romeo and Juliet, giving timely Birth
To untimely half the yellow Sun
That juxtaposed planet of poetry
Behind the star of tribe as a priority
Condemning to stark oblivion all the fated,
in full uniform of tribal dimunitions, or mimesis.
Ever predated on when tribes form nations.
A time to try the chimpanzee blood in the veins
Of white humanity, battling cynosure
Historically evinced in Antony and his father,
Or Tybalt and Mercurial of mercutio,
Or Macbeth and counterparts
Or Hamlet the Danish and the inheritors of his mother,
As the white blood cells of the white blood,
Militantly attack the white corpuscles
Of the misfortunate chimpanzee,
Converting the later into
A chewer of misfortune.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
Have we all become mere automata
guided by the ring of pings and notifs?
The spray of lather from a sea of data
carrying with it wrung celebrity whiffs
have stung us with a certain aphasia...
The written thought was a lifetime ago
long abandoned by the times and all--
where once there was soundness to follow
nonsense amassed like a rising cymbal
whose crash sent reason to the gallows.
The news of the day presents a delectable entree
of a hodgepodge of this, that, and nothing much.
Wherefore we find our tongues compelled to say
something about the aftertaste or to prejudge
as if we were connoisseurs--it must've hid faraway.
Are we perhaps amusing ourselves to death?
I am by no means a Luddite to such a degree,
but I believe we have bombarded and blessed
ourselves a little too much to see...
only time will tell us reason's final breath.
Sep 19, 2023
Sep 19, 2023 at 10:38 PM UTC
A is for Almost, how much I tried
B is for Barely, how I survived
C is for Clearly I'm feeling worn thin
D is I'm Dying inside of this skin
E is for Every, the days that feel worst
F is for Fear, the unbearable curse
G is for Guttural, forth from which sorrow boasts
H is for Happy, what I long for the most
I is for how I am screaming Inside
J for how I long to feel Justified
K is for Knowing that none of it's real
L is the Love that I no longer feel
M is Misanthropic, Macabre, Morose
N is I'm Not okay, Not even close
O for the thoughts that become Obfuscated
P is for all of the People I've hated
Q is for the always unanswered Question
R, from the ones I hold dearest, Rejection
S is the Solitary Silence I Seek
T is Trying to fight when I'm weak
U, feeling Ugly, outside and in
V is the whole bottle of Vicodin
W is Working through Panic attacks
X is the whole bottle of Xanax
Y is for You, the only light that I see
Z is the Zeal for life you've brought back to me
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 10:37 PM UTC
to smile like that,
you ******* Cheshire cat,
your lips curled up
as you lounge in the grass,
your legs sprawled out,
your face painted every
shade of smug
because I want to kiss you
(and you know it)
because I want to **** you
(I hope you know that)
for ruining roundhouses
with weak knees
for turning my right hook
into my right hand on your chest
as you pull me in closer
you turned my (occasional) quick wit
into pure aphasia
brought on by your all-consuming gaze
and I'm left awkward and dumbstruck,
wondering who gave you the right
to look at me like that
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
When my mind is
vacant and empty,
I can sense the Lord
Orchestrating beauty
From the heart of the void.
Tranquility of a still morning
Is worth more to me
Than everything and more.
Compared to the stress
Of the speeding world.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 8:17 AM UTC
words deprived of meaning
thoughts stranded in translation
feelings imprisoned without sentencing
a stroke of life...un coup de vie
an existence brutally stricken
incapable of verbal expression
communication frustration...no relief
nuances from mundane to sublime
lost in an endless syntax maze
and sure, some actions speak louder
but unspoken words of love and support
fall like an acid rain of futility on the heart
Sad enough when inflicted by fate
tragic as a self-induced metaphor
The muting of squandered opportunities
will keep you disconnected and haunt your future
Aphasics have no say in this matter
What's your excuse?
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 12:25 AM UTC
There are words in my head
and the words make sentences
and the sentences make paragraphs
and then the paragraphs form stories that
are incoherent and jumbled like aphasia and
I'm drunk with this pain because there are too
many words too many words too many words and
my heart is so thirsty
my mind is so quiet
my hands are so still
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
the white noise is calming due to the interruption of sober silence
depriving senses, seeming like aphasia, looking through peripheral to see
all but what was was straight in the clear, sight insufficiently corrupted
painful holdings and a hand punched into the car door beside me
screaming about the difficulties, a voice that cracked like stained glass
suddenly given a voice, to only express furthermore misapprehension
a voice that spoke words
that could be seen forming in the air above
the words that wrapped around my body and clung like static
pulled me like a rope twisted leash, forming circulating rusted lesions
across a protruding collarbone
stare down deep into the roots of a tender willow tree
look down, and avoid the expression on that face
and the truck that was unnecessarily punished
now pretend you have aphasia, pretend that lesions don't **** slowly
and pray your face doesn't end up like that car door
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 9:06 PM UTC
My friend asked me about my conversation with you today.
I told her you must have run over me with a truck.
She was confused, and I explained that you left me speechless.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 9:07 PM UTC
Frozen Bones
Mom, why my bone aches?
Why my entire body quakes?
Is this a punishment or am I out lucked?
I wish death would release me than being plucked
Mom, I don’t need drugs or chemotherapy
And no blunt hospitals or hopeless radiotherapy
Mom, before it’s too late and I’m trapped with aphasia
The life’s agonizing; please liberate my soul by euthanasia
Sorry Mom I talk so ruthless,
Nobody wishes life to be so worthless
Promise me you won’t cry when I am gone
Wherever I’d be, your life must stay on.
Your grief is giant that’s last thing I know
I wished you would have seen me for many years to grow
Oh Mom! But these poisonous bones, Why couldn’t be fixed by glue?
As ashes of those bones would immerse and my soul flew
I shall fall asleep peacefully and see a dream of glorious view
Mom, you shall be glad imagining, my life will be calm and new
My life here is nothing but the silent assembly of frozen bones
No flesh, no blood, no pain, everywhere are just peaceful zones
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 7:25 AM UTC
o divine aphasia
the words dribble from my lips
and die on the floor alone
my confessions are meaningless
in the face of the crown
bedazzled jewels and gaudy plastic
that's all they want
all i want
smile and take the electric throne
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
Will I find my words
Like I find me keys?
Will they perch on my tongue
Like a terrible tease?
Have they drowned in the ocean
Of mental disease?
Or will they come flowing
With incredible ease?
...........
I wish I knew...
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 9:04 AM UTC
My spelling
has to be wrong.
I write love
and you don't see it.
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 10:47 AM UTC
her bones
like splintered stone
scatter the blood of a darker self
"a high note at a low point"
eyes flicker red flames
nightmare's wine
beats the soul to the ground
in secret's place
where bodies are poems
"bodies of a puzzled lust"
Venus in furs
fractures chime and broken bell
"tell me how she hooked your mind"
staccato aphasia
trembles disrupted linearities
in a coffined mouth
as visions brim
by a mindless god's
elective horrors
in balconies of eternity
"let your hands be her hands"
vertigo falls through windows
black hole air
"the coat that covers paradise uncovers hell"
Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 2:33 PM UTC
built a dam
****** the flow
to rock me
in a nebula
of aphasia
damask and silk
amniotic velvet
all five senses
spelling your smile
the touch of your voice
Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 6:36 AM UTC
[personal definition based upon a study case of one]
1. Self-commitment to silence one’s heart; often described as ‘experiencing life holding your breath’ or ‘seeing the world as if you were on a river bottom’; main symptomes: being able to interact but refusing proximity .
2. Condition found after one’s sudden awaken from a long period of self inflicted cataleptic narcosis, by a singular human touch, and subsequently being unexpectedly left in the wide; main symptomes: non-stop spinning and sprinting in all directions; aphasia and forgetfulness of words; general deeply cultivated indifference beneath high level of external activity in order to endure the understanding of everything as delusional; slow return into narcotic catalepsis, mainly through smothering the heart beat.
Notes
1. Predisposition for the syndrome: perception of a flaw disabling wholeness; intrinsic tendance to flee from others when reality does not match one’s pre-vision; obsessive phobia of halves of nothing.
2. Treatment: unknown; progress shown under some conditions did not linger.
3. Survival rate: not appliable.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC
My words are lost.
I speak
But now I stutter.
I think
But nothing comes out.
My words are gone.
I can't remember what
I used to write.
My words have run.
I am smart
Was smart
But now
Words
Are
Lost.
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 3:22 AM UTC
i came out of despairing with the help of two words
that kissed my eyelids and sighed smiles in my hair:
at least
i can curl my toes in soft mud one moment and thousand count cotton the next
at least this is a world where hyacinths smell like forgiveness each spring
at least i have the luxury of dreaming
at least i can sit in sanctuary with my thoughts far from my safety
at least there are kids like aphasia spouting precisely what you know but can't think
at least strawberries taste like blooming on my tongue
at least there's a whole day devoted to mischief and my boy was born heir to april
at least i can find solace in the belly fur of a sleeping cat
at least there's patience in sadness
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 6:04 AM UTC
Hindered by the need for practicality,
The song that longs to heal the world
Remains unsung.
The steps that would have mended broken spirits
Remain undanced.
Blinded by the need to see reality
The cotton candy dawning clouds
Turn stormy gray.
The breeze that eases all the doubt and fear
Grows into a howling gale
Deafened by the clarion call of duty
The cries of broken little birds
Cannot be heard.
The words that float on images of grace and beauty
Remain unwritten.
Stunted by the evil of aphasia
The verses that could have lived forever
Lie entangled on the tablet.
The Laurel wreath that had my name on it
Lies now withered on the floor.
ljm
Sep 3, 2024
Sep 3, 2024 at 10:40 AM UTC
am i still there?
i'm still there.
warm flesh & blood
now phantasmagoria
& a gentle breeze
that sweeps your hair
from out of your eyes.
(yearning for) retrograde amnesia.
i can't forget
the sound.
agnosia.
flashbacks of when
i grazed you
& it made you audibly silent,
visibly warm, & full of bliss...
fast-forward to you
recoiling from my touch.
now cold, painful, & unwelcome.
can you still feel me?...
aphasia.
it always upset you
when i couldn't say what
i meant.
apraxia.
the cognitive dissonance
experienced is how much?
amnesia.
i don't want to forget any of it.
i want to remember it all.
i don't want you to forget any of it.
i want you to remember it all.
Nov 28, 2023
Nov 28, 2023 at 3:53 PM UTC
Apocalyptic opportunity operating on obversely open,
oblong abortion-addiction, analogous of an upturned
episodic aporia apprehensive about obtuseness-
an opportunity inimitable in essence,
its assiduous attribution apparently evident
as economic edifices advertised as assistance-appeals.
Obviously, opportunities as enriching are essential
on account of existential affirmation,
otherwise all's apoplexy, ethanol ornament,
an altered evocation understated and escalated
obliviously; absent absinth; am armor arrayed
especially as assured; aerial oogenesis;
asymptomatic aphasia; acts of elegant appetizing.
Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 10:24 AM UTC
Under a certain light,
with calm mollifying gleam,
at the touch of a hand
aphasia sets in quick,
sudden and sweet, and
submerged in a pool of milk,
I become a toy submarine.
When candles did die,
burnt to their wicks,
I hear you sing,
holding up half of my skies,
convulsive muscles flex,
as if a broken thing
was longing to be fixed.
Surly time stilled passed?
Though from its presence,
we were absentees,
too preoccupied with
our arms stretched outwards
weightless as bodies
on the Dead Sea.
Oct 8, 2020
Oct 8, 2020 at 3:13 PM UTC